


He Can't Possibly Be Real

by cami_soul



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: AU, First Meetings, Goth Even looking hot AF, Isak figuring out what he wants, M/M, Overwhelmed Baby Gay, Tunnelen, fluffy with hints of smut, nose rubs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:08:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22131553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cami_soul/pseuds/cami_soul
Summary: The one where Even looks like a mythical being come down to spend time with the poor mortals.  Inspired by Henrik’s picture as his character in Tunnelen.  Purple hair, dark eyeliner, and ethereal beauty.  The first meeting of Isak and Even in a gay nightclub.
Relationships: Even Bech Næsheim/Isak Valtersen
Comments: 22
Kudos: 98





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So even though I have two, count em two! WIPs I SHOULD be working on. I was instead overwhelmed (much like Isak in my story) by this picture of Henrik from Tunnelen - and I just had to write this small drabble. Sorry, not sorry ;)  
> Also, I need to say that Isak has some very negative self-talk here, much like his PRIDE discussion with Eskild in OG. So please don't read if that is upsetting to you.

Isak was mesmerized. There was no other way to describe it. 

Somehow Eskild had managed to convince the whole group to come out to a gay nightclub, to support a newly come out Isak. Eva had dragged Jonas onto the dancefloor. Eskild and Noora were dancing together, as were Chris, Sana, and Vilde. Magnus was plastered out of his mind and dancing all by himself. Mahdi was in a deep conversation with another guy at the bar. 

And Isak, well… Isak was transfixed… captivated, caught up in a spell. He was leaning back against the bar and mindlessly drinking whatever was placed in his hand. His whole being focused on the man who danced on the other side of the room. He couldn’t take his eyes away from him. Isak had never seen anyone like him. He looked like a mythical being come down to spend time with the poor mortals. In his head, Isak called him Oberon. Long pale hair, possible a light violet color, cascaded down over his shoulders. He wore a black shirt made out of some sort of silky material, that was entirely unbuttoned and open in the front. The flashing club lights glinted off his nipple piercings. He was long and lean, with tight black trousers worn so low on his hips that you could see the shadows cast by his hipbones. 

He was tall, towering over everyone dancing around him, but still graceful - his arms and legs moving in perfect concert with the music. His body pulsed in time with the beat of the bass as he moved on the dancefloor. 

Isak didn’t know why he couldn’t tear his gaze away. There was no way he could be interested in this man. He was gay, sure… but he wasn’t ‘tights and mascara’ gay. Isak was positive he wasn’t that kind of gay. Nonetheless, Isak’s eyes followed as Oberon’s stomach sucked in and out with his movements. 

Isak’s obsessive staring was interrupted when Eskild came over and, ignoring his protests, dragged him onto the dancefloor with them. Unlike the object of his fascination, Isak was not a graceful dancer. A fact that was exacerbated by the fact that he was currently drunk off his ass. As a consequence, he mostly stood and swayed - occasionally adding in a jerky arm movement. 

In a surprise move, Eskild caught one of his arms and spun him around. Isak, unable to keep his balance, stumbled until being stopped by a pair of steel bands that came around him stopping his momentum. Isak looked up and saw it was Him! 

“Looks like you’ve been caught, Bambi,” Isak was unprepared for the deep rumble that was Oberon’s voice. 

Isak’s eyes skittered about, not knowing where to land - the startling blue of his eyes outlined in dark black, the partial tattoo peeking out around a collarbone, or the pale skin of his chest that was incongruously dotted with tiny moles? Finally, his eyes landed and stayed on the lip ring piercing a full pouty bottom lip that was matched by a plush upper lip. Isak swallowed hard as he stared at those lips. 

“It’s rude to stare, you know,” his deep voice rumbled over Isak causing him to close his eyes briefly in order to survive. 

The hand at Isak’s waist slid under his shirt and came to rest at the bare skin of the small of his back, while his other hand tightened its hold on Isak’s neck. Isak gasped at the sensation, “Oberon!” 

“What?” Oberon asked while tracing his hand over the skin of Isak’s lower back. 

Isak’s brain turned to mush and he couldn’t think of anything except the long fingers stroking his skin. He looked up and got caught in the deep blue of Oberon’s eyes. “What?” he asked in confusion. 

“Forget it,” Oberon chuckled, “Exactly, how old are you, Bambi?”

“I’m legal,” Isak protested, trying to stand up straighter within the other man’s embrace. At the other man’s skeptical look, Isak blurted out, “I’m 18!” 

“So… barely legal then, Bambi.” he shook his head, causing Isak to panic that he was going to walk away. 

Impulsively, Isak threw his arms around Oberon’s neck and clasped his hands. “I’m legal enough,” Isak insisted. 

“You’ve been staring at me all night, you know,” he asserted. “What is it you want from me, Bambi?” Oberon gave Isak a hard look. 

Isak had no idea how to answer this. Did he want something from this beautiful man? Was he brave enough to ask for it? The loud music, the crowd, the flashing lights - all of it just faded away until it was only the two of them stood together. 

“You look so fucking innocent, Bambi. Except for your mouth…,” Oberon swept his thumb over Isak’s bottom lip and dragged it down, pressing his mouth open. “Your mouth is positively sinful,” he whispered. 

“I’m not…” Isak didn’t know what he was protesting - that he wasn’t sinful or wasn’t innocent. So he settled on clarifying, “My name’s not Bambi. I’m Isak.” 

“Okay, Isak… ” Oberon’s deep voice saying his name sent shivers of pleasure up Isak’s spine. “Have you ever been fucked before? Cause I really want to fuck you,” he moved so he was whispering directly into Isak’s ear, his lips brushing against the shell with every word. “I imagine you would be so tight and sweet.” Isak’s knees buckled at his words, and he sagged against the other man. Oberon tightened his hold on Isak, keeping him upright. “But I think that you might be too drunk for that tonight.” He kept one arm around Isak and moved the other to go fishing around in Isak’s pocket - for one tantalizing second brushing up against Isak’s dick - before coming up with Isak’s phone. 

He opened the phone, brilliantly deducing Isak’s lock code of 1, 2, 3, 4, and started typing. When he finished he slid the phone back into Isak’s pocket. He put both hands on Isak’s hips and gripped him tightly, pulling their bodies flush together. He lowered his face and slowly traced along Isak’s nose with his own. He pulled back slightly and looked Isak in the eyes. Isak melted into a warm puddle of goo right there on the dancefloor, his mouth falling open and his eyes glazing over. “Call me when you’re sober,” he demanded. And then he let go and turned and walked away, the crowd swallowing him up before Isak could find his voice to call him back. 

Eskild and Noora found him quickly, pulling him off the dancefloor before he was trampled. They took one look at his dazed face and decided to take him home. Isak woke with the mother of all hangovers and had no recollection of the trip back to the apartment. As he stumbled back to his room, after a trip to throw up in the bathroom, he found his phone. 

Carelessly he opened it, his heart stopping for a moment at the message that greeted him - and memories of the night before came screaming back into his brain;

**Even: AKA the one Isak couldn’t stop staring at**

_Hope your head doesn’t hurt too bad this morning_

_Call me_

_Still want to fuck you_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo! There is more. I'm really enjoying this storyline. C-
> 
> There is a possible trigger in this chapter for a nonconsensual attempted kiss. Please see endnotes for more details or how far to read if you want to avoid it.

At 15:00, Other than throwing up twice Isak had done nothing more than take some headache tablets and drink two glasses of water. He had burrowed under his duvet and tried not to move too much. He tried not to think about the text message that was waiting for him. 

By 19:00 Isak decided to venture out to the kitchen to have some toast and steal some of Noora’s juice. He threw on some sweats, ran his fingers through his hair and decided that was good enough. 

He was inside the kitchen before he realized that Eskild and Noora were sitting at the table and it was too late to turn around and leave. “How are you feeling Isak?” Noora asked, concern coloring her words. 

“Fine,” Isak mumbled as headed over to the bread on the counter. He put two slices in the toaster and got a glass of water before turning around to face them again. 

“Forget that,” said Eskild, “I’m more interested in hearing about the hottie you were on the dancefloor with last night. You were too out of it when we brought you home, but now I want details!” 

“Uh... there’s nothing to tell,” Isak shrugged. The toaster popped and he gratefully turned his attention to retrieving his toast. Belatedly he realized that Eskild had also taken the opportunity to move so that he was now blocking the doorway to the kitchen. “Eskild, come on,” he whined, “there’s nothing to tell.” 

“Yeah, no. I don’t believe that. Now tell your Guru - what’s his name? When are you seeing him again?” Eskild pressed. 

“I don’t know him, Eskild,” Isak protested. “I don’t know if I even want to see him again. I don’t think he’s my type” He looked down at his toast refusing to meet his roommate’s eyes. 

Eskild started laughing, “You didn’t see the two of you together on that dancefloor. He is absolutely your type, Baby Gay. I was worried you were going to take your clothes off for him right then and there!” 

“Eskild,” Noora chided when she could see how red Isak was turning. 

“I have homework,” Isak made the excuse and then pushed past Eskild and down the hallway to his room. He could hear Noora raise her voice at Eskild but he couldn’t hear what she was saying, and that was ok with him. He ate the toast and then dove back under his duvet, resolutely ignoring his phone and the rest of the world. 

The week passed and several times each day Isak would open up THE TEXT, but he never replied. He didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t sure what was happening between the two of them, or if he even wanted anything to happen at all. 

But the thing was… he couldn’t get his Oberon out of his mind. He didn’t sleep well, couldn’t focus in class and several times the boys called him out for spacing out during their conversations. 

By Saturday he knew it was too late to text back. Too much time had passed and it would be weird. He decided to go back to the same club on the chance that Even would be there again. He told Eskild he was going out with the boys and told the boys he was staying in to catch up on homework. 

He dressed carefully in his black skinny jeans and an oversized pink t-shirt that had a wide neck that tended to slip down one shoulder. He had only worn it once before but Eskild and the girls had made a big deal about it. The girls telling him he looked “so hot” and Eskild calling it his “get laid shirt”. He could only hope they were right. 

His hair was kind of hopeless right now. He hadn’t had it cut in a while and the curls were going every which way. He ran a brush through them and called it good. He knew he couldn’t compare to how beautiful Even was, but he thought he cleaned up okay. 

—————

Isak nursed a beer at the bar for an hour, determined not to get drunk this time. He was here… Even, his Oberon. He seemed to alternate between hanging out with his friends and dancing. But no matter how hard Isak has stared at him he had not looked in Isak’s direction once. 

Isak got up from the bar and ever so casually walked by Even’s group of friends, on his way to the toilets. He kept his eyes ahead for the most part, but when he was parallel with them he turned their way and sought out Even. His head was bent, long violet hair hiding half his face as he talked with one of his friends. 

So much for that ploy. Isak continued to the toilets and tried to give himself a pep talk in the mirror. But who was he kidding, Even had obviously lost interest. And who could blame him really, Isak was so plain and boring compared to how good looking Even was. 

He returned to the bar and just ordered a Coke this time. Taking back up his spot watching Even. Just as before, Even seemed oblivious to the fact that Isak was there. So Isak stared openly. Occasionally a guy would come up and try to talk to Isak but he would give them disinterested monosyllabic answers and they soon moved on. 

Even danced with both guys and girls, but he didn’t seem to be with anyone person in particular except his friends. Isak took some small comfort in the fact that at least he didn’t have to watch Even making out with someone else. 

Another hour passed and Isak realized that he just needed to go over and talk to him. Otherwise, it would be another week spent dreaming about his Oberon and getting nothing else accomplished. 

He made his way over to the group and stood nearby hoping Even would finally look his way. It didn’t happen. He worked up his courage again and pushed his way into the middle of the group. Two of the guys looked bored and one started smirking, when Even finally lifted his eyes to look at Isak. 

The silence drew out painfully until Even spoke. “What do you want, Bambi?” Even asked with a disinterested expression. 

“Can we talk?” Isak tentatively ventured. 

“Go ahead,” Even challenged. 

“Well… um… I meant alone,” Isak turned red when he heard Even’s friends snickering. 

“I don’t think so,” Even answered. “Anything you have to say to me you can say in front of my friends.” His eyes were the cold blue of northern ice as he stared at Isak. 

Isak’s heart pounded so loudly he couldn’t hear the dance music anymore. It had taken all of his courage just to walk over here, but if he backed down now he would end up just where he had started. And that was nowhere. “Well… it’s just that… just that I can’t stop thinking about you,” Isak couldn’t believe that he actually said it out loud. 

Not even the smallest muscle twitched on Even’s face in reaction to Isak’s statement. “Okay,” he said after a pause. 

Isak waited to hear the second part of the sentence but nothing followed. Isak got angry that he had just made a fool of himself for nothing. “Okay? That’s it? You have nothing else to say?” 

“I mean… what do you want me to say, Bambi? That I can’t stop thinking about you either? That I know we’d be amazing together? That it was love at first sight?” He asked sarcastically. 

Isak stood there, his heart trampled on the floor, staring at Even - willing him to say he was sorry and it was all true after all. But that didn’t happen. Instead, a cute guy with bleached white hair came over and grabbed Even’s hand, and pulled him onto the dance floor. 

“Tough luck, man,” one of Even’s friends said before they all moved away and left Isak standing there by himself. 

He moved in a daze back over to the bar and ordered a shot of vodka. Fuck staying sober! Six shots later, Isak was considerably poorer and could barely stay seated on the barstool. 

Isak was considering his seventh shot, because he could still feel the ache in his chest from where his heart had been ripped out (he may have been slightly exaggerating there - but fuck it he was pissed), when he felt an arm slide around his shoulders and a voice whisper in his ear, “Hey there, Sweetheart, aren’t you just a pretty thing?”

The man’s mouth was wet and left an uncomfortable damp patch on Isak’s ear where he brushed it. Isak tried to shrug off his arm but lost his balance and fell into the man instead. He tightened his hold on Isak in response, “Whoa there, Sugar, don’t fall now. Unless you want to fall on your knees for me,” he leered and laughed at his own joke. “I bet your mouth is sweet. Why don’t we find out?” He gripped Isak’s jaw tightly and held him in place before he lowered his lips. 

Isak was bracing himself for the touch of those wet lips to his, but it never came. Instead, the man was ripped away from Isak so hard Isak had to grab onto the bar to keep himself upright. 

“You get the fuck off of him!” Isak heard the menacing growl before he registered that Even was the one holding onto the back of the other guy’s shirt. 

Even was pulling back his arm for a punch when his friends intervened. They grabbed the guy and started hustling him away, “Ev, Ev… we got this. He’s not worth it.” 

The friend that had been smirking at Isak earlier chimed in too, “Go check on your boy, Even. We’ll take care of this jerk.” 

Even immediately turned to where Isak was leaning against the bar. “Did he hurt you? Did that asshole touch you?” he asked angrily. 

“No, he just talked about it. What do you care anyway?” Isak answered getting angry himself and starting to shout because Even was pretending to care what happened to him. “I’m sorry I never texted you back, you asshole! But I didn’t know what to say to a guy like you.” 

“What do you mean, a guy like me?” Even shouted back. 

“You know! A guy like you - one so cool, and good looking, and perfect. You know what? Just forget it…” Isak quickly turned to walk away but his feet tangled up together and he fell on the floor. 

“He can’t stay here like this. He’s too drunk. Are you going to take him with you? If not I have to call the police,” the bartender told Even. 

Isak stayed laying on the floor because it seemed like too much work to get up and besides, the room wouldn’t stop spinning. He could hear people around him talking but he couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to what they were saying. He’d screwed everything up with Even so what was the point anyway. 

His reverie was interrupted when he was abruptly pulled to his feet. Isak found himself with Even’s arm around his waist and the other man leading him out of the bar. 

“Okay, let’s get you a cab,” Even turned with Isak toward the street. 

Unfortunately, the motion started Isak’s stomach rolling. Nausea hit him quickly and he called out a quick warning, “I think I’m gonna puke!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A creepy jerk (not Even) tries to kiss a drunk Isak without consent. If you want to avoid it, stop reading when Isak starts to drink vodka.


End file.
